A Brother's Duty
by ObsessionNight03
Summary: Sam and Dean head off to California following a message from their dad and one of Sam's dreams. What secrets about their family's past will they uncover there? Please read and review.
1. Message from Dad

Disclaimer for entire story: I do not own Supernatural, only the plot and any new characters. Please don't sue me.

**Chapter One:**

**Message from Dad**

_The ocean. Sam hadn't seen the ocean for a long time. He used to live in San Francisco, at Stanford, so he used to go to the beach with Jess a lot. When you grew up in Kansas you never really saw the beach, or the sand, or tasted the salty breeze._

_Sam watched a pretty girl standing by the ocean waves. The small curls of water lapped at her ankles, soaking the hem of her jeans. The salty breeze was blowing her dark blonde curls across her face. She's quite pretty, not in a mouth dropping, knock 'em dead kind of way—in the mysterious I've-got-a-secret kind of way. Sam can see her eyes. Familiar dark eyes framed by long, black eyelashes. Sam knows her, but he doesn't know how, or why._

_"Ella."_

_He says her name because he knows it. He has no idea how, but the name slips off his tongue, and he knows it's her name. The girl turns around and frowns. Her lips are full and naturally pink making her frown the perfect girly pout. Something glistens behind her eyes, a deep curiosity, but also suspicion. It's a look Sam has seen before, but for a moment he doesn't care why the girl is familiar to him because he cares about making sure she is okay._

_Frowning, she asks, "Why are you following me?"_

_**Ring. Ring. Ring.**_

Sam Winchester's eyes snap open. He groans as the consistent ring of his older brother's cell phone blares through his half-awake ears. Said older brother continues sleeping like he can't hear it, but Sam knows Dean wakes up every time he has a nightmare, so there is no way he could sleep through that annoying racket.

"Dean," Sam calls, which really says _answer your phone, you lazy ass._

When there's no response after Sam calls his name two more times, Sam rolls his eyes and fumbles for the ringing cell phone. The caller ID is flashing _Unknown_ and the annoyance of that simply pisses Sam off. He flips open the phone tiredly.

"Hello?" he mumbles, groggily.

The voice, sounding very far away and distant, is crackly. It's terrible reception, but when the voice on the other end speaks, Sam recognizes it immediately. No matter how long it's been since he heard it.

"Dean?" it yells. "Dean, is that you?"

Sam shoots up in his motel bed like a rocket, shock pouring from his very pores and riveting up his spine; sending chills down his bare back.

"Dad?" he gasps, even though he knows it's his father.

"San Diego, California. La Jolla Cove."

_What the fuck?_

"Dad! Dad, where are you? It's Sam! I'm with Dean! Where—" Sam yelled.

"San Diego, California. La Jolla Cove," John Winchester repeats.

The line went dead with a hollow click.

With a silent roar of rage, Sam pitches the cell phone against the wall. The battery flies out, but Sam knows he can fix it. The satisfyingly loud noise causes Dean to yelp and almost fall out of bed. His dark hazel eyes flicker between a seriously pissed off little brother and the cell phone in a strange position across the room. Dean quickly puts two-and-two together before yanking the comforter off him and moving slowly toward Sam, who's breathing particularly hard through his nostrils. Sam refuses to meet the older one's eyes until he feels a hesitant, but gentle, hand placed on his shoulder.

"Dad call, Sam?" Dean asked quietly.

So Dean really had heard the entire conversation, or lack there of. When Sam managed to nod robotically, Dean sighed and sat down beside his brother taking his warm hand off of Sam's shoulder.

"What did he say to you, Sam?"

Sam feels waves of concern flowing from his older brother and marvels at him. How can Dean, merely hours after Sam had shot him point blank with rock salt, be so concerned with his little brother? Could Dean really have forgiven him that fast? Or was he just avoiding the subject so things could get back to their very small scale of normalcy? Sam was going to have to go with the latter. But, in the meantime Sam decided to humor Dean and answer his questions.

"He just said 'San Diego, California. La Jolla Cove.'"

"That's it?" Even Dean was surprised and he did sound a bit disappointed.

Sam nodded again. Dean frowned.

"Well—did it sound like he wanted us to go there?"

"I don't know!" Sam suddenly exploded. "I was having this stupid dream when he called and I was kind of disoriented for a minute and I tried to get him to talk to me, but he fucking hung up!"

Dean wasn't fazed by Sam's little outburst. When it came to their father, Sammy was the emotional one. In fact, when it came to anything Sam was the emotional one. Dean was accustomed to being the protector…the rock…the solid one…Sam was the Gemini. The one whose emotions went from high to low to pissed to depressed all in the span of two minutes. Dean bit his lip thoughtfully.

"You had a dream?"

Sam's head snapped up. The two brothers met eyes for several moments before Sam cautiously lowered his. Dean took that as a yes. By the way his brother was reacting it wasn't a dream; it was a _dream_ dream. And no matter how much crap Dean gave Sam about his whole "don't ask, don't tell" theory, it scared Dean a little to think of his kid brother getting these creepy _feelings_ sometimes. Dean was supposed to be able to protect Sam from everything, but this was one thing Sam had to suffer through by himself.

"What happened in the dream, Sam?" Dean asked softly.

Sam shrugged and looked down.

"Sammy," Dean growled warningly.

"It's _Sam!"_ he bit back. "And nothing! There was this girl on a beach and I said her name. She asked me why I was following her and then I woke up."

"She was on a beach?" Dean said slowly. "A beach…." He trailed off.

Sam watched him intently, wondering what on earth his brawn like ass of an older brother was thinking about now. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam and looked at him like he was the stupidest person in the world.

"Sam—you said the girl was on a beach, _right_?" Dean said, exasperated.

"Right…" Sam said slowly, still not following where his older brother was heading with this.

"And what is La Jolla Cove?"

Something slammed into place in Sam's mind and for the first time in his life he agreed with Dean that he had acted like a piece of dumb shit. Dean smirked at him playfully.

"Didn't they teach you problem solving at that school, college boy?" he said, trying hard not to laugh.

"Bite me," snapped Sam, standing up. "Lets just get to San Diego."

Dean reached out to give him a sharp poke in the side. Sam jerked away in a huff.

"Not going to work."

"C'mon, little brother," laughed Dean, "I was just messing with you."

Sam responded by jabbing his own finger in Dean's ribcage. Normally such an action would have caused Dean to tackle him to the ground. Then a fierce, but relatively harmless wrestling match would take place ending with Dean triumphantly—and annoyingly—pinning Sam's arms behind his back and making him yell "Uncle!" until his voice went hoarse.

Sam rather would have dealt with Dean's major ego issues than what happened instead. Dean let out an involuntary gasp of pain. And as quiet as it was, Sam immediately felt terrible. The events at the asylum played over his mind again.

_"If you hate me that much…"_

God, Sam did not hate his older brother. Ever since he was three and old enough to understand what Daddy did for his job, Dean was the one who took care of him. He stayed with him when Dad left them alone, tucked him in at night, punched the bully on the playground, chased away the pit bull down the street, and saved his life on too many numerous occasions to keep track of.

And what had Sam done to thank his brother for all those things? He shot him. In the chest. Point blank. Dean probably hated him now, and quite frankly, Sam didn't blame him.

"Dean?" Sam asked tentatively.

Dean surveyed his little brother and when he saw the guilt shining through dark brown eyes he tried to put a smile on.

"Yeah?"

Sam sat next to him. Through the dimly lit room he could see a haze of purple and black bruises dotting Dean's bare chest. Dean followed his brother's eyes and tried to wriggle Sam's comforter up on his body, but Sam didn't buy it.

"Dean—I almost killed you," he whispered.

He sounded so heart broken that for a split second Dean wished Sam were a little kid again, so he could justify pulling Sam into his arms and letting the boy cry his pain out. But, they weren't kids anymore. They were men. And Dean was not going to surrender to a chick flick moment at the age of twenty-six.

Instead he grasped Sam's shoulder and looked sternly into his little brother's wide eyes.

"Sammy," he said firmly, "this is _not_ your fault. It wasn't you. You said yourself you didn't mean any of what you said."

"But, what if it had been loaded, Dean? I'd be burying you in the ground right—"

"But, it wasn't," Dean interrupted. It was incredible to hear how much of a little kid Sam could still sound like. "It wasn't. I knew you weren't—you know—yourself. I knew, so I didn't give you a loaded handgun."

"You didn't think I'd try to shoot you either. You must have believed I wouldn't and I…"

Sam let the sentence hang. The last words were obviously and silently spoken. _I let you down. I failed you. After everything we've been through together, I let a crazed ghost come between us. _Sam felt Dean's hand on his shoulder tighten. And when he looked into his brother's calm hazel stare, he realized nothing was ever going to make Dean hate him for what happened. Nothing was _ever_ going to make him feel that way; no matter how much Sam thought he deserved to be hated.

"I forgive you, Sam," said Dean quietly. "If that's what you want to hear so badly—_I forgive you._"

He hopped off the bed and turned on a light while he made his way over to the bathroom to take a shower.

"You know," Dean said, grinning and turning around, "I've always wanted to learn how to surf."

Sam snorted. Leave it to Mr. Super Sensitive to spoil a bonding moment because of his fear of showing too much emotion.

"You're such an idiot, Dean."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Oohh, that hurts!" Dean pouted. He stuck out his tongue and slammed the bathroom door.

Sam let out a breath he didn't notice he'd been holding in. They were okay. Dean wasn't angry with him. And judging how close they had actually been to having a dreaded "_moment_", Sam figured Dean was too busy worrying about him to care about some bruises on his chest.

But, what's a big brother for anyway?


	2. La Jolla High

A/N: Wow! I can't believe I got reviews already! I love you all who did! Here are some replies!

**My heart beats only for you**: I was so excited when I saw your review. I love your story "Samuel Knows Best". Thanks so much for the review…and no worries, I've got plenty in store for Dean.

**7sTar**, **ChaiGrl**, and **Ghostwriter**: Thanks for reviewing you guys! Please keep reading and feel free to ask questions and make some tiny suggestions if you have any!

**Moonfairyhime**: I love your name; it's too cute! Thanks for the review and keep on reviewing!

**Becka73**: I'm so excited to hear that you liked my brotherly interaction. I was afraid the characterization was off cuz Dean and Sam are complicated characters on the show. Thanks for reviewing!

**Aira Silver**: Hmmm…How do you know the title doesn't refer to Dean's duty to Sam, or Sam's duty to Dean? I guess you'll just have to keep on reading to find out.

**Chapter Two:**

**La Jolla High**

"I love San Diego."

Sam rolled his eyes. Ever since Dean and him had arrived at La Jolla the day before all Dean had been doing was staring at fake tanned girls in too small bikinis and pooka shell necklaces. And to be quite honest, it was getting old and annoying pretty damn fast.

"Do you think you can pry your eyes off the locals long enough to help me with something?" Sam asked, annoyed.

Of course he had to ask right when three girls walked by half dressed and giggling at Dean, who in return gave them his most charming Winchester smile.

"Dean!" Sam was bordering on whining.

"Okay, okay, fine!" sighed Dean. "What d'you need, Sam?"

Sam silently cursed any God out there that made his older brother grow up into such a stubborn, impossible asshole. Grumbling to himself, he spun his laptop around to show Dean the website he was on.

"La Jolla High School?" said Dean. "What are you looking for exactly?"

Sam spun the laptop back around to face him and clicked on the link STUDENTS. As he waited for the page to load, he looked up at Dean.

"The girl in my dream was young. She was eighteen at the oldest. So I'm assuming that she's in high school, and this is the only public high school around here," Sam explained.

"So—are you looking for girls at this school named Ella?" asked Dean as he came around behind Sam to look at the screen over his shoulder.

"Or Eleanor," said Sam, his eyes quickly scanning the names of links to articles about the students.

_Vikings football prepares for CIF._

_Captain of girls water polo out for entire season._

_Patty Hsu wins local art competition._

_Students complain about locker shortages._

_School play announced: Rent._

_Gabriella Rowley wins part of Mimi in Rent._

_Thomas Robertson to play Roger in Rent._

_Soccer coach looking for back-up goalies for winter season._

_Principal announcement: stop littering._

_Varsity cheerleaders prepare for competition against Rancho Bernardo HS._

"Maybe she's a cheerleader," suggested Dean.

"I bet you'd like that," Sam mumbled. He regretted that immediately after Dean smacked him in the back of the head. Smirking to himself nonetheless, he clicked on the article.

_The varsity cheerleading squad has their second to last competition this weekend against Rancho Bernardo High School. RBHS has bested La Jolla High three out of the past four years, but the girls are very confident in their routine this year._

_"We've been practicing really hard and our routine is brand new. So it's very different from the one we did at cheer camp over the summer," says captain Andrea Wilkinson._

_The girls say all their complicated moves and lifts will boost their chances of beating RB High this year._

_"Some of the girls from the gymnastics team have joined the squad this year, so they're very good," says co-captain Isabelle James._

_Some of these girls include Tia Johnson, Rachel van der Woodsen, and varsity gymnastics captain Eleanor McKenzie, who went to CIF finals last year—_

"Hah! She is a cheerleader!" said Dean triumphantly.

Sam rolled his eyes—for the fifth time in twenty minutes, perhaps?—and closed his laptop.

"If that really is the girl from my dream then you're right. We should get to La Jolla High," said Sam.

Dean jumped off the wall they had been sitting on and fished for the keys to his beloved Impala.

"Ready whenever you are, little brother."

Sam was pretty sure that up until now he had never seen so many spoiled, pampered rich kids in his entire life. Coming from Kansas you didn't see girls carrying Louis Vuitton totes for backpacks, or driving Lexises and BMWs to school.

"Are we just going to sit on my car and watch the little children have lunch, or are we going to go in there and look around?" asked Dean in his I'm-bored-out-of-my-mind tone.

Sam sighed. Dean could be so annoying sometimes…All the time really.

"Yes, master," he said sarcastically.

Sam tried to ignore all the flirtatious smiles being sent toward the older Winchester as they made their way to the courtyard. It wasn't that girls didn't find Sam attractive; girls just thought Dean was the charmer, the confident one, and the flirtatious one himself. Sam was shier and a little more reserved. Ever heard of the brains and the brawn? Dean was the brawn, and Sam was the brain. That was how it had been since Sam turned fifteen.

"Okay, so the picture on the Internet sucked," said Dean, "but do you think you can recognize her if you see her?"

"Probably."

Dean remembered his high school experience, or lack there of, and it was nothing compared to the scale of this place. La Jolla High had almost two thousand students, whereas his little school in Lawrence had maybe five hundred, with a graduating class of one twenty. Dean considered himself lucky that he had even managed to graduate. His dad kept yanking him out of school to go hunting, insisting that he couldn't take Sam because even though neither Winchester wanted to admit it, they didn't want Sam to get hurt.

Maybe there was a reason why Dean was so freaked out after the Bloody Mary incident when San said he'd die for him? It was the elder's duty to protect the younger, not the other way around.

"I see the cheerleaders, but I can't pick out which one is Eleanor McKenzie," Sam interrupted his thoughts.

Dean followed his brother's gaze across the grassy courtyard. Indeed there were ten or so girls in matching cheerleading uniforms shrieking with laughter, or gossiping with the football team. It was almost a perfect stereotypical scenario. Dean was having a hard time believing his father wanted Sam and him to find a giggling cheerleader—no matter how hot the girls were in their tight tops and short skirts.

Sam snorted. "Why don't you go over there and ask for Eleanor McKenzie?"

It was Dean's turn to snort. "Why me? You're the one who'll be able to ID the girl from your dream."

"We really don't have time to argue about this."

"Sammy, I hate to break it to you, but you're twenty-two and not in high school anymore." Dean smirked. "You shouldn't care what the popular kids think of you."

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious," snapped Sam.

He took off across the courtyard without another word. It was exceptionally annoying to Sam that Dean knew how to push his buttons and get him to do anything he wanted. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam knew Dean wouldn't be able to ID the girl. After all, it _was_ Sam who saw her in the dream, not his brother.

Sam was too busy watching the cheerleaders across the grass that he almost didn't see the junior girl two feet in front of him. With a painful slam into his shoulder, and a yelp of surprise from the girl, he broke eye contact with the cheerleading group.

"You mind?" the girl snapped. Dark eyes flashed from beneath long, black lashes.

"Sorry," Sam said quickly.

The girl rolled her eyes in an almost ridiculously accurate impression of Dean and stalked off, her dark blonde ponytail swinging across the back of her pale blue Abercrombie & Fitch polo. Sam watched her walk away. The hair color was the same. The height looked about right. Even the sarcastic, annoyed tone was on the money. But, it was the eyes that sold Sam. That girl was from the dream.

But, Sam didn't understand. He had called the girl "Ella" in his dream and as far as Sam knew, there was only one Eleanor at La Jolla High. And this girl was certainly not Eleanor McKenzie. He sighed and made his way back to Dean.

"I found the girl from my dream, but she isn't Eleanor McKenzie," said Sam.

Dean frowned. "Then who is she?"

Sam scanned the crowded courtyard until he picked up the mystery girl sitting on a bench with her nose buried in the latest issue of _Seventeen_.

"Over there on the bench. She's wearing a light blue shirt and has blonde hair." Sam pointed across the heads of some milling Chess Club members.

Dean shielded his eyes from the sun to get a better look. She certainly fit Sam's description of the young girl from his dream. Dark blonde hair. Not very tall. Sixteen, maybe? And even from far away, Dean could tell she was rather good looking.

A janitor ran up to the girl and grabbed her arm. She stood up and pulled her arm free. Dean couldn't hear a thing, but from the look on her face and her body language it wasn't something good. The girl threw her bag over her shoulder and hurried down a hallway and out of sight. The janitor stood stalk still for a second before suddenly whirling around.

Dean couldn't deny that he was shocked when the janitor looked directly at him. It was _creepy_. Dean couldn't see his face because he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat. _Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe she was called to the office, or something, _he thought.

"Hey, Sam?"

Sam turned around and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

Dean pointed to where the janitor was. "See the janitor over there? In the sunglasses and the hat?"

"What janitor?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"The one standing by where your girl was just sitting!"

Sam shook his head. "I still don't see him."

Dean threw his hands up. Aggravated, he turned sharply to point him out to Sam again, but when he was about to raise his hand, he realized he couldn't exactly do that.

The man had disappeared, leaving his hat and glasses on the bench.

A/N: The first person to review gets a cookie. )


	3. Ella

A/N: Congratulations to **mew** for reviewing first, so the cookies go to you! But, my love and thanks goes out to **twilite**, **P.L. Wynter**, **Spectral Scribe**, **Aira Silver** (I love how you ask questions!), **ChaiGrl**, **Ghostwriter**, **Dyrne-Faemne**, **KatieMalfoy19**, **SVOC Luva**, and **SupernaturalGurl** for reviewing too! Keep on reviewing and I keep on updating!

**Chapter Three:**

**Ella**

"I'm telling you, man, there was something not natural about that janitor," Dean huffed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "There's something not natural about you, but I'm not saying anything."

The older Winchester decided to ignore his little brother's comment and chose instead to raise his binoculars. La Jolla High had gotten out of school fifteen minutes ago, but he had yet to spot Sam's mystery dream girl come out.

"Maybe she plays a sport," Sam suggested.

Dean dearly would have loved to have said _maybe you should shut up_, but he refrained for the sake of getting along with Sam since God only knew how long this stupid stake out in the front parking lot was going to last. But, there was only so much of Sam's clear dismissal of the disappearing janitor he could take.

"Look—we're obviously here for some supernatural reason," reasoned Dean. "Why else would we be here?"

"But, that doesn't make everyone a demon, Dean," Sam replied.

"I never said the guy was a demon. I just said there was something unnatural about him!" Dean snapped.

They had been bickering about this since the lunch period was over. Dean was adamant that there was something creepy about the janitor who grabbed mystery girl's arm, but Sam was just as adamant that there was a logical explanation for it. But, even Sam was having difficulty coming up with an acceptable way that the man could have disappeared that fast.

"There she is."

Dean looked up. Sure enough, a pretty blonde girl in a baby blue shirt was hurrying through the front gates of La Jolla High School. Her bag swung loosely at her side and a cell phone was pressed against her ear. She stopped walking and seemed to be concentrating on what the person on the other line was saying. Then she erupted into giggles. Dean sighed. God, teenagers were so predictable.

"How are we supposed to talk to her?" Sam asked, studying her from afar.

"Watch the master work, Sammy boy," grinned Dean.

Sam hissed in protest, but Dean paid no attention. In his usual confident swagger, he headed straight for the girl, who had turned left and was making her way toward the student parking lot.

"Excuse me!" he called, once he was sure she could hear him.

The girl kept walking as if she hadn't heard him. Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed. That was something Sammy would do.

"Excuse me!" When there was still no response, Dean grit his teeth in annoyance before yelling, "Hey, Ella!"

"Yes?"

Dean was so shocked that she actually turned around he barely managed to stop walking before he crashed into her. Wide dark eyes appraised him up and down slowly. They were almost calculating, as if trying to sense whether or not she would be able to trust him.

"Your name _is_ Ella?"

She cocked her head at him before offering him a small smile. "Well, actually, it's Gabriella Rowley, but when I was little I liked Ella more than Gabby as a nickname."

_Gabriella. That explains a lot._

"Is there something I can help you with?" Ella asked suddenly.

She was smiling slightly at Dean, half of her face trying to be polite, but the half very questioning. It was the same look people gave Sam and Dean when they were victims of supernatural, or friends of victims. It was a face Dean had a seen a lot in his twenty-six years of living.

"I saw a man grab you today at lunch," Dean blurted out, "and—I wanted to ask you if you were okay."

_Smooth._

Ella's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared beneath her bangs. For a brief moment Dean thought she was going to burst out laughing, but instead she retorted:

"My regular knight in shining armor, are you?"

_And success._

"You'd be surprised," Dean smirked. It was so easy to get a girl's attention when you're being chivalrous.

Ella laughed, a pretty sound like bells twinkling. "Okay hot shot, what do you really want? You obviously are not in high school, but you're way too old to be interested in me, so what do you want?"

_Damn, she's smart._

"The truth?" said Dean, the wheels in his mind turned furiously to think of a cover. "The truth is that me and my brother are new to La Jolla, and we were kind of looking for a tour guide."

Whatever Ella was expecting him to say _that_ was certainly not it. Her eyes grew even rounder, if that was at all possible, and her smile slowly melted off her face. But, to give the girl credit, she did not look mistrusting or afraid, merely properly quizzical. Her eyes slowly appraised Dean again, giving him the impression that she was reading his mind.

"You're not going to turn out to be some sort of psychotic lunatic if I agree to show you my favorite coffee house, are you?" Ella asked slowly.

"Well, since you're taking us to a very public place, I'd say I'm going to have to lay off the psychotic lunacy for the time being."

She laughed again and shook her head. "Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?" she asked dramatically.

Sam had to hand it to his older brother. If it weren't for the fact that he was so charming with the ladies (and Sam hated to admit this even to himself), Ella never would have agreed to take them all out for coffee. But, it probably helped that they could all walk there, thus she didn't have to get into the Impala, and the café was extremely crowded.

"It's really popular with the locals, which makes the tourists love it too," she explained, twirling a spoon inside her latte.

The little place was very sea worthy. Nets decorated with starfish and sand dollars covered the walls. There was also a Hall of Fame filled with pictures of celebrities like Kristen Kreuk, Alexis Bledel, Matt Damon, and Oprah to name a few. Several squishy armchairs lined the walls, and that's where the three were now sitting out of the way of the door.

"So have you lived in La Jolla your whole life?" Sam asked her.

Ella shook her head. "Nope. My mom and I lived in Fresno. Then she met her second husband and we moved to Santa Rosa up by the Bay area. But, after she died, my step-dad wanted a change of scenery. I've lived here about two years."

She blew air on her hot drink while Dean and Sam exchanged quick glances. Dean kicked Sam under the table.

"I'm sorry," he said sympathetically. "How did she die?"

Ella gave Sam her calculating look. After a moment's hesitation she said, "We didn't know our house had faulty wiring. We didn't have smoke detectors. My step-dad was on business. It happened late at night. I ran out, and I thought my mom was right behind me, but she wasn't." Ella's eyes suddenly grew over bright. It reminded Sam of what happened to his dad every time he mentioned how Mary Winchester had died. "Sorry, I don't usually like talking about my mom's death."

"I understand," Dean said softly.

"But—it's just that…" Ella trailed off helplessly.

"Just what?" encouraged Sam.

Ella looked at the two brothers, and she continued in a low tone. "We had lived in that house for seven years. _Seven years_ and no electrician ever said we had bad wiring. My step-dad, however," Ella laughed bitterly, "he swore it must have been some new problem the storm the week before caused when we got power failure."

Dean took in the bitterness of her voice and the way Ella's hands gripped the edge of the table so her knuckles turned white. It wasn't hard to put two-and-two together with her, just like it wasn't hard with Sammy.

"You don't get along with your step-dad very well, do you?" Dean asked.

"If my real dad had ever shown his face I would be living with him right now—not my egotistical, selfish, arrogant, bastard of a step-father," growled Ella.

Sam found that interesting. "You never met your biological father?"

Ella nodded. "My mom never liked talking about him. I think he broke her heart when he left. Whether he's dead or alive—I don't even know _that_ much."

She sighed and checked her watch. "Well, it was nice meeting you guys, but I've got to run."

Sirens and alarms started ringing in Dean's head. "What? Why?" he asked quickly. A little too quickly.

"I have play rehearsal at five. And if I'm late my drama teacher will kill me because we're doing Rent and I'm in the first scene," she replied. Ella threw her bag over her shoulder. "But, I'll see you around."

She turned on her foot and left without another word. Dean and Sam stared at each other. Each was trying to make out who exactly this young girl was. One minute she was a happy-go-lucky teenager and the next she was a wise old soul who barely had anyone to call her family. Dean felt drawn to her; the way he felt when he saw Sam in trouble. He felt like he knew he should do something, but he didn't even know what that something was. He had only known her an hour and a half.

"Should we follow her?" Sam interrupted his thoughts.

Dean hesitated. "I don't think so. We'll find her again tomorrow and find out where she lives so we can keep an eye on her."

"Shouldn't we be looking for something paranormal that's centering around her?" asked Sam, surprised at his brother's hesitance to dive in deeper with Ella Rowley.

"Until we know what your dream signifies and why Dad sent us here—no. Our job right now is to watch her. Knowing us, Sammy, we're bound to attract some sort of trouble eventually."

Or maybe a little sooner than they think.

A/N: This time it's a chocolate chip cookie to the first reviewer! )


	4. Tears Are Not Enough

**Chapter Four:**

**Tears Are Not Enough**

"You know—this is bordering on stalking," Sam commented.

The two brothers stood behind Dean's beloved Impala watching as La Jolla High celebrated a recent football victory with a beach bonfire. Shrieks of laughter mixed with the sounds of splashing, and the marching band was in full swing. Dean took a sip of coffee and watched Ella Rowley be chased around in the sand by an unknown tall, dark, and handsome man in a football jersey.

"Man, I remember high school. And _this_ certainly was not it," he said. He cringed as three football players rolled in a keg to the cheers of the senior class. "_That_, however, I do remember," he added.

"College is like that," said Sam. "That would have been right up your alley."

Dean smirked. "Aww, you liked the library, didn't you, Sammy?"

"Shut up."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Dean smiled to himself. He enjoyed the little bantering he and Sam got into on an hourly basis. It gave them a reason to forget about what they were doing, who they were supposed to be looking for, and their job at hand. It gave them an opportunity to be brothers again, instead of partners in their deadly mission to rid the world of evil. Not that they weren't brothers during all that.

Like a magnetic field was leading her eyes their way, Ella suddenly whipped her head around. And when Dean's eyes met hers, he knew she wasn't very happy. The sixteen-year-old beauty threw her hands up in the air and started stalking away in the same manner Sam had seen at the high school.

"And the target is moving, I repeat, the _target is moving_!" Dean announced unnecessarily.

Sam rolled his eyes. "No really?" he snapped sarcastically. He sighed. "You stay here. _I'm_ going to follow her this time."

Sam hurried toward the beach where a head of blonde hair had just disappeared behind the towering flames. Ella made her way steadily toward the rolling waves. The small folds of ocean water lapped around her ankles, soaking the hems of her jeans. The breeze blew a single curl across her face, giving her the look of an ethereal angel. This place…Sam had been here before.

"Ella?" he asked cautiously.

She whirled around to face the youngest Winchester. Her pink glossed lips scowled at him. A look that Dean often has no problems sharing with his little brother. A frown that reached into the depths of dark eyes framed by darker lashes.

"Why are you following me?" Ella demanded.

_My dream. Oh my God, it's my dream._

Why Sam didn't see it before he would never understand. This was the defining moment. This was the moment Sam was supposed to be prepared for. This was the moment that had drawn him and his brother to San Diego in the first place, the moment that connected their dad's message to whatever was going on with this girl's life.

So why was Sam standing gaping at the girl like a goldfish?

"Jesus, you and your brother have problems," Ella growled, walking angrily toward Sam. "You can tell him to leave me alone—you too. I don't need to be babied like a little girl. I am more than capable of taking care of myself!"

"Are you sure about that?" slipped out of Sam's mouth before he could stop himself.

Ella's mouth opened and closed rapidly as she struggled to find words to reply with. "You—you—you don't even know me! And you stand there like it's your freaking calling to save me!"

"I'm not trying to save you!" Sam insisted.

"Then what are you doing exactly?" For emphasis she placed her hands on her slim hips.

It was Sam's turn to gape at her though no words left his mouth. "It's—it's very complicated!"

Ella started laughing bitterly.

"Well, it is!" Sam said hotly.

"I'm sure," Ella sneered. "And if you don't have anything more interesting to say, I'd like you and your brother to get the hell away from me."

She brushed angrily past Sam, who immediately knew Dean was going to kill him if he let her get away that easily. Sam owed Dean for getting her to trust them in the first place.

"Your mom didn't really die in an electrical fire, did she?" Sam yelled at her back.

Ella froze. She slowly rotated on her left foot until she was facing Sam again. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

"Excuse me?" Her tone was icy and low, but Sam heard her over the crashing waves without any trouble.

"My mom," started Sam, coming a bit closer to her, "died when I was five months old and Dean was almost five. The police tried to tell my dad that it was electric…But, that's a lie. Someone…or some_thing_ murdered my mother."

_And I'll be lucky if Dean doesn't murder me for this._

Sam gazed into Ella's widened eyes. She listened the same way Dean did. No one could tell if they were listening unless the speaker looked into their eyes. When Dean was really listening to Sam, his eyes were riveted upon his baby brother's face, watching him. It was the same way with this girl.

"You saw something that day, didn't you?" Sam asked. Ella looked away. "You saw something and no one believes you."

Ella looked back up at Sam. Her dark eyes were swimming with raw emotion. Slowly, never breaking eye contact with him, Ella nodded stiffly. It was that one simple nod that caused Sam to understand one reason his father wanted Dean and him in San Diego. Ella Rowley's mother was the victim of supernatural murder.

**_"Because maybe you're gonna be the one who saves me. And after all…you're my wonderwall."_**

****Sam and Ella jumped. "Wonderwall" by Oasis blasted from a cell phone, but the only phone Sam came in contact with was Dean's. Ella grimaced and fished out a sleek black cell phone. She flipped it open, but her eyes were still fixated upon Sam like he was a unicorn with three heads.

"Hello?" Her voice shook slightly.

Though Sam could not hear exactly what the person on the other line was saying, he could tell the person was yelling very loudly. Ella's face appeared like it was carved of wood. No emotion graced her features as the caller continued to yell for two minutes straight. The only sign she gave that she was still feeling something was the vein that throbbed in the corner of her temple.

"Okay!" she yelled back. "I'll come home, Tom! Okay?"

She snapped her phone shut. There was a very awkward pause before Ella said:

"My step-dad wants me home. I'll—why don't you and Dean stop by after school on Monday? We can—can talk some more about this."

A brief smile and a stiff wave later, and Ella was vanishing into the crowd of teens milling in the sand and firelight.

"Well—that certainly looked interesting from my point of view," said Dean from behind Sam.

Sam turned around to face his older brother. His face must have betrayed his shock for Dean immediately frowned.

"What is it, Sam?"

Sam simply shook his head. "Dean—Dean, I think—I think Ella's mom was killed by the thing that got Mom and Jess."

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It was lucky that Ella walked home, otherwise Dean would have lost her by the time Sam and him got into the Impala. She lived in a rather impressive house on a cliff over looking the cove. It was white with a large Victorian front porch complete with a swinging bench and roses in the front yard. A tower room grazed the spot where Dean was certain there was an attic.

He really had no idea why Sam was so keen on the idea of staking out the sixteen-year-old girl's house. But, when his little brother had a hunch chances were that he was right. He was right about staying a few extra hours in Kansas to be certain whatever was in their childhood home was, in fact, gone. Sam was blessed with that kind of intuition—the kind that could not be taught.

Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat. Dean knew he was going to hurt him when he woke up. Sam didn't like sleeping on the job. Neither did Dean, but Sam needed all the sleep he could get. Between the hunting, the nightmares about Jess, and the nightmares about hunting, it was a miracle when Sam got four hours of sleep. But, if Sam's reflexes weren't sharp for a mission and that cost the brothers a life…Dean shuddered to think what that would do for Sammy's conscience.

"…Dean…"

Dean glanced sharply over at the sleeping figure of his little brother. Sam's demeanor had changed rapidly. From the relaxed, slightly curled position, Sam had morphed into a tight ball, tense, with his features twisted into a familiar grimace of pain.

Dean sighed and reached over to try and pull him out of the clutches of a nightmare.

"Sam? Hey, wake up," he said.

But, Sam jerked violently away. He started shaking uncontrollably in his sleep.

"…No…" Sam moaned. "…Dean, come back…please, come back…"

The desperation in Sam's voice frightened the older brother. Dean shook Sam's arm while trying to assure him that he was right there. Where else would he possibly be?

"…I'm sorry, Dean!" Sam cried.

"Sammy, wake up! It's okay!" Dean shook him harder to no avail. Explosions of worry and freight trains of concern erupted in his heart.

"It's all my fault!" Sam cried.

"Sammy—"

To his shock, Sam lashed out ferociously. His elbow connected hard with Dean's ribs causing his old wound from the asylum to flare up. Hissing through the white-hot pain, Dean did the only thing he could think of doing. He grasped Sam's wrist closer to him and smacked him round the face.

"SAM!"

The younger Winchester woke with a sharp gasp of pain followed at once by a strangled cry of, "DEAN!"

Dean grabbed his brother's face firmly within his grasp, the pain in his ribs slowly ebbing away. He wouldn't let go until Sam's petrified brown eyes sought his own. Sam was still shaking, and Dean figured it was the worst nightmare he had never seen Sam have. It was probably the worst nightmare Sam had ever had.

But, when Sam's eyes shut tightly and two glassy tears trailed down his pale cheeks, Dean knew this was not an ordinary, everyday nightmare.

"Sammy," he whispered softly.

The last time Sam had leaned against Dean's shoulder and cried he was fifteen years old. And when Dean felt hot tears slide down his neck, he felt like letting go and crying himself. Gently, Dean wrapped a strong arm around his brother's lanky frame, all pretenses of no chick flick moments forgotten. Sam needed him. And when Sam needed him, Dean would always be there. That was the way it had always been.

"What's wrong, little brother? Talk to me," Dean said soothingly. He gently rubbed Sam's shoulder. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Between Sam's hiccups of sobs and the fact that Dean's jacket muffled his voice, all Dean could understand was, "Jess…Mom…my fault…dead…"

Dean merely pulled Sam deeper into his arms and waited for Sam's sobs to decrease. During normal circumstances, Dean would have thought Sam was being a complete loser and that he was acting like a six-year-old blubbering baby. But, this was not normal. Sam had seen something that had truly scared him. Dean had never seen his kid brother like this.

"You…you were dead," Sam cried. "The—the _thing_ got to you…And I—I couldn't—I couldn't s-save you…"

Dean didn't quite know how to respond to that. All he knew was that if he had a dream of that monster taking Sam away from him…Dean didn't even want to think about how he would feel.

Cold.

Empty.

_Alone._

Dean wished he could save his brother from everything. The wish had begun when he was eight years old. Sammy was four, and the bully down the street liked to pick on the small boy for his kicks. Dean was livid when he found out. But, John Winchester was even more livid when he found out Dean had been fighting. Dean was overprotective. He felt like a failure when Sam lost Jessica. But, Sam hadn't lost Dean. And if Dean had his way, he would never lose him.

"I'm here, Sammy," Dean whispered into his brother's soft brown hair. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere for a very, very, _very_ long time."

Sam drew in a shuddering breath and detangled himself from Dean's protective grasp. Dark hazel eyes met shiny brown for a long moment. Slowly, Dean reached out with his hand and brushed away a lone tear on Sam's cheek with his thumb. He smiled gently.

"I promise. Okay?" Dean said just as gently as his smile.

Sam nodded. He tried to smile, but his face shook a tiny bit at the effort. Dean gripped his little brother's forearm and gave him a little shake. Sam raised his darkened eyes to his brother's determined face and found reassurance.

"Okay," he said with forced calm. "Okay."

"That's my boy, Sammy," Dean smiled. He reached across the Impala to ruffle Sam's tussled hair.

Sam wriggled out of the way, but couldn't help but smile. Dean had a way of easing his troubles. But, the fear of losing his older brother…his protector…was scary.

"Sam," gasped Dean. His face was white. He pointed behind Sam to the front door of the house they were standing in front of.

The sudden change in his mood from reassuring to fear startled Sam greatly. He whipped his head around so fast he felt a crick in his neck. The front door of the house was open. A shadow was moving strangely lopsided across the front lawn and down the driveway. It faltered and nearly tumbled to the ground. The shadow was slim, and Sam recognized a head of gold curls from the glow of the streetlight next door.

"Holy shit!" Sam yelled.

Dean and Sam ripped themselves from the Impala. They made a beeline for the young girl stumbling woozily from the driveway and slowly lolling toward the street. Sam caught her first. Ella's eyes were glazed over in pain.

"Ella!" he called.

Her hazel eyes met his for a split second.

"Sam—?" she asked hoarsely.

She collapsed forward into Sam's arms before he could respond. Sam felt something wet on the palm of his hand resting on the small of her back. Even in the pale light of the streetlamp Sam could see it was blood. Fresh blood.

"Dean, we have to get her to a hospital!" panicked Sam. "She's bleeding!"

But, Dean was too busy staring up at the attic tower. A man had appeared in the lighted window.

A man that looked eerily like the disappearing janitor of La Jolla High School.

A/N: Hopefully I'll get chapter five out tomorrow because I'm leaving for vacation on Saturday. Reviews are always nice! And I adore everyone who reviewed chapter four!


	5. Suddenly Everything Has Changed

**Chapter Five:**

**Suddenly Everything Has Changed**

Dean was used to carrying a heavier body. The only person he had ever carried into a hospital was Sammy (and that was certainly something he never wanted to experience as an older brother again), and Sammy weighed a Goddamned ton compared to whom he was sprinting through the emergency room doors with now. Sam hot on his heels.

"We need a doctor! We need a doctor now!" Dean yelled to the bustling room at no one in particular.

Ella had not regained consciousness at all throughout the ride to the hospital. Dean had screamed at Sam to sit in the backseat with her and hold her head still while he broke fifteen traffic laws to get her to the hospital before she lost too much blood. Her breathing was relatively normal, but Ella's pulse was too rapid for Dean and Sam's liking. They weren't going to take any chances with bringing her back to their motel room. They didn't want questions and they did not want any of Ella's family to come looking for her, though Dean had not shared his opinion of the situation with his little brother yet.

Three orderlies sprinted forward with a gurney. The oldest and by far the most experienced looking man in the bunch practically ripped Ella out of Dean's arms. Sam seemed to notice that his older brother was in complete "protect or die" mode, so he gripped Dean's shoulder to prevent him from doing anything he would regret later.

"What happened to her?" the man shouted, shining a light into Ella's dark eyes.

"We don't know," Sam tried to explain. "We came by her house and she came out like this. She lost conscious about fifteen minutes ago."

The orderly nodded. He turned to his team and rattled off instructions. "Get into exam room three, I'll meet you there with Doctor Robertson! Check for any internal bleeding and broken bones! I want a status report and her blood type in ten minutes!"

Sam couldn't explain the pain he felt in his heart when he watched the orderlies run down the hall with Ella. He hadn't even known her forty-eight hours, but the intense worry wasn't leaving him alone.

The doctor turned to Dean, who looked by far to be the older of the two men.

"What's her name? The girl you brought in?"

"Gabriella," said Dean, "Gabriella Rowley."

"Where are her parents?"

Dean was blessed to be able to look into any authorative figure's eye and lie to them without flinching. "I have absolutely no idea."

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"I saw the janitor in Ella's attic window," said Dean.

Both boys were sitting uncomfortably in hard plastic seats. The ER waiting room was practically deserted on this Wednesday night, and the silence was actually deafening to the older Winchester's ears. Sam looked like he was going to fall asleep at any given moment, but Dean knew the younger man wasn't quite ready to surrender to sleep again. He didn't want to have another nightmare. Especially a nightmare with the kind of viciousness as the one he had a mere hour and a half ago. But, Dean's sudden exclamation startled him out of tiredness.

"You—what?" he asked, confused.

"The janitor I told you about earlier. The one from Ella's high school. He was staring at us from the attic window," explained Dean.

Sam's deep brown eyes betrayed his shock. "Are you saying that the janitor you got a weird feeling from is Ella's step-dad?"

Dean sighed tiredly and ran a hand over his face and through his cropped hair. "That's not all I'm saying, Sammy," he said softly.

One look from Sam's eyes prompted Dean to continue. Dean sighed again, this time in frustration. "Sam—I think—I think Ella's step-dad abuses her."

There was dead silence following this statement. Dean was afraid to look his brother in the eye for some reason. Child abuse was such a heinous act to both brothers. It was a fear that had always danced in the mind of both boys as they grew up. John Winchester was a good father, or as good as could be expected. But, he was severe, strict, and often frightened both of his sons when he got angry. Dean admired Sam for the way he could hold his own during arguments with his father. Their dad never laid a finger on them, but the subtle, unspoken fear between the two sons and the father was very fresh in both Sam and Dean's mind.

"You think he did that to her?" Sam breathed, horrified beyond reason.

Sam could never imagine anyone who would want to hurt their own child. But, then he remembered. Ella and her step-dad did not get along well. In fact, now that he thought about it, on the beach when Ella's cell phone rang it was her step-dad. Tom, she called him. And when Sam was trying hard not to listen to their conversation, he had to admit. The man on the other line was extremely pissed off.

"When I talked to Ella on the beach," Sam said quietly, "her cell phone rang. It was her step-dad. It sounded like he was yelling at her on the phone."

"Shit, Sam. Shit," Dean hissed. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Protect her, dumb ass," Sam snapped. No way in hell was he going to leave La Jolla until he knew that girl was going to be safe wherever she was.

"Protect her from what?" said Dean, exasperated. "Sam, we can't hide her from the man who has legal custody over her! That's way illegal! Even for us!"

Sam grasped his brother's shoulders and shook him. "Dean, Dad sent us here to protect that girl! She was in my dream for a reason, and Dad wants us here for a reason. The only thing we've got to go on is that Dad wants us to protect her from something out to hurt her!" Dean stared at him. Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, you said there was something off about that janitor. Maybe he's demonic."

Dean had a strange feeling Sam was only agreeing with him to prevent telling his older brother he was wrong.

"Sam, you know we can't stay here forever protecting Ella from her step-dad," Dean said.

"I know," replied Sam steadily. "That's why we're gonna have to work fast."

Dean ran his hands over his face and raked them through his hair again. He wanted to help Ella; God, he really wanted to. But, what could Sam and him possibly do? If her step-dad was a mortal man there was pretty much nothing they could do unless Ella had some family buried somewhere in Nebraska they could go to for help. But, if the man was a demon…Dean was going to make him feel Hell once and for all.

"Okay," consented Dean, "let's start with the basics. Has Ella come in contact with anything supernatural in her life that we know of?"

"Yes," said Sam immediately.

Dean raised his eyebrows in a very good likeness of Ella the first time he met her.

"Her mom, Dean. The thing that got Jessica and Mom killed her mom, you know it. An electrical fire? That's exactly what the police told Dad."

"We don't know for sure that she saw anything that day, Sam," Dean exclaimed.

"We can find that out though easily enough."

"Oh, really, Master Yoda, how's that?" scowled Dean.

Sam smirked at his older brother. "We ask her, dumb shit."

Dean gaped at his brother. It was amazing to think that just barely two hours ago Sam was like a little kid again. Leaning into Dean for strength and protection like when he was a teenager scared to death of the Minotaur that had nearly mauled Dean to death. Now, here he was cool as a cucumber, and almost taking charge of the current situation they were in.

"Is that Sam speak for 'get off my lazy ass and go ask the nurse if Ella's okay'?"

"Uh huh."

Dean aimed a smack across the back of Sam's head, but the younger brother managed to deflect it and smirk again at the elder.

The hallways of the La Jolla Memorial ER were slowly emptying as patients went home after examination, or were ushered back inside their rooms by the sweet voices of the stationed nurses, or the calls of the assembled family members.

The nurse behind the counter was busily typing away on her computer, so it took her a moment to realize Dean was standing in front of her looking slightly perturbed.

"Yes? How may I help you, young man?" she asked with an almost too sweet aura.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I brought in Gabriella Rowley and I was wondering if she was done with her examination," Dean said.

"Give me a moment, please."

The nurse's fingers were almost blurred they moved so quickly on the keyboard. She paused and stared at something on the screen. She then looked up at Dean slowly, and a smile crept across her rounded features.

"How sweet. You two have the same eyes," she said kindly.

Dean blinked at the woman. He frowned. "Excuse me?"

The woman's smile faltered, but it did not leave her face. "Oh. Aren't you her brother?"

Dean laughed. "Lady, I just met the girl two days ago. It's just a coincidence."

The nurse was really looking confused now.

"Her birth records say her mother was Elizabeth Anne Rowley, deceased. They say her father is John Samuel Winchester, alive." The nurse looked up at Dean again. "Didn't you say your last name was Winchester?"

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Review please!


	6. I Shall Believe

**A/N: I got so many reviews! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, all of you who did! You're my heroes!**

**Chapter Six**

**I Shall Believe**

Dean reeled backward. He felt as if someone had taken their fist and plunged it into his insides. His lungs squeezed shut and his breath was coming in odd, silent, hiccups. For one brief moment he pinched himself, willing to go back to reality. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again he was still standing behind the nurse's counter. Dean's hands started to shake; his knees went weak. He gripped the top of the counter for dear life. Every bone in is body felt like they were quaking with suppressed fear.

_"Didn't you say your last name was Winchester?"_

The immediate thought that ran through Dean's suddenly clouded mind was that the nurse had made a mistake. There was no way on God's green earth did he and Sam have a half-sister. Especially a half-sister that was almost ten years younger than Dean. A half-sister that their dad kept hidden in California her whole life.

But, a nasty little voice inside Dean's head was whispering to him other thoughts. His dad sent Sam and him to San Diego for a reason. The reason was to protect the same girl Sam saw in a dream. Could John had possibly sent his sons to this place to save their little sister from her step-dad's wrath? Did John even know his "daughter" was being mistreated? Why did he think Dean could handle this right now?

What frightened Dean the most at this very moment was not how he could potentially have a baby sister that he never knew about. Nor was it the fact how he was going to break it to Sam if he found out what this nurse had just said was true. It was the fact that if—and _only if_—all this was real…and if Ella's step-dad was not a demon…Dean did not know how to handle a bad guy who was human. Not in the way he should know how. Dean had seen his fair share of kids beating up kids, but child abuse was different. It was an inhuman act done by a human. And Dean didn't know how to mend those kinds of scars.

"Sir?" a voice broke through his stunned thoughts. "Sir, are you all right?" the nurse asked.

Dean nodded weakly. "Yes…yeah…can you tell me where I will f-find Ella—Gabriella Rowley—please?"

The nurse stared at him.

"Sir, are you her brother?"

Dean hesitated, his hands did not leave the counter yet, nor did his racing heart slow down. If he told the woman yes, did that mean he wanted Ella to be part of his family? And if he told her no, could he be rejecting another person to love and protect? His mind was whirling, and before he could really think of the smartest answer, Dean blurted:

"Yeah…I'm her brother."

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Looking back on his younger years at age sixty, Dean knew he would tell his grandchildren that standing outside exam room three was the scariest moment of his entire life. No demon had ever made his heart race so fast. No monster had ever made his breath hitch in his throat. And the only thing that had ever left the oldest Winchester trembling was the when Sam was seventeen and nearly drowned in Lake Michigan on a water demon hunting trip.

Through the glass windows Dean could see Ella was sleeping soundly. The nurse told him she didn't have critical injuries. The doctors just wanted to observe if her concussion was serious. The only reason Dean was able to obtain this information was because he told the lady he was her big brother.

But, was he? Did he see any of Ella in himself? Was the hunting blood of the Winchesters really flowing through her veins, or was there another John Samuel Winchester out there, who had abandoned his daughter before she was born?

Dean knew his father. It would take a whole lot of woman to make John Winchester forget about Dean and Sam's mom. Could that be the reason why their dad had left Elizabeth Rowley when she was pregnant? Did he feel ashamed because he thought he was betraying Mary by being with another woman? But, really—is that any excuse to forget your daughter, never contact her, and leave your two sons out of a very important piece of their lives? No, it wasn't.

His feet were moving before Dean even recognized the change of scenery. Soon he stood at the foot of Ella's bed and stared at her.

It was like a veil had been in front of his eyes the entire time he had been with Ella, and now Dean was seeing her clearly for the first time. How could he have possibly missed _that?_

Ella looked like him.

Their hair color was the same. Dean subconsciously tugged on his short hair. Sam and his dad always called it "dirty blonde", but when Dean looked at Ella's dark gold locks spread across her hospital pillow, he suddenly didn't find it so dirty after all. Dean shut his eyes and squeezed them tight trying to remember if Ella's eyes really were the same color as his. All he could get in his mind's eye was that they were dark, almond shaped, and framed by long, dark eyelashes. Dean smiled. Almond shape was definitely his trait, but the eyelashes were Sam's. Just like Ella's eyes betrayed her emotions just like Sammy's did.

But, scanning her face thoroughly told Dean she had more of Dean's looks about her. The two had the same angular nose. It was identical down to the miniscule bump on Ella's in the same place Dean had his. The only difference was hers was tinier. They had the same tiny dimple on their chins and their cheekbones were high, but not as pronounced as Sam's were. It was almost scary, and once more Dean found himself thinking how he could of possibly missed all the signs.

The heart on the sleeve…the mood swing in the café…her sarcastic mannerisms on the beach with Sam…the eye rolling…All of which were traits that belonged to each of the separate Winchester men. Ella was like Sam, their dad, and himself all rolled up and stuck into one package. She might look like the oldest by far the most, but her personality was a split triangle.

Dean suddenly found he wished he could talk to her. He was now seventy-five percent convinced she was who the nurse claimed her to be—his baby sister. And seeing her lying prone on a hospital bed wrapped in thin blankets made his heart ache in the familiar way it did when Sam was injured, or sick…

_But, what if it's not true? _mumbled the sly little voice in the part of Dean's mind he hated the most: where doubt and fear lived. _What if you're getting your hopes up for someone else to be a part of you?_

_What if you just want someone else to make you feel less alone?_

"Shut up," Dean hissed to himself. "I can prove it." He rubbed his forehead frustratingly. "_I know_ I can prove it."

In a flash his cell phone was out. He punched the keypad furiously. Anger was finally setting in the young man's blood as he dialed his father's familiar number. How could he keep this from his own sons? How could he hide them from their baby sister? How could a father leave his daughter to a man who hit her?

"You've reached John Winchester…"

Dean barely managed to swallow his screech of fury. One lame phone call, sending his sons halfway across the country, and Dad didn't even bother to pick up the phone to tell Dean he wasn't imagining things.

"Dad…it's Dean…Listen, you have to call me back when you get this." Dean shook his head mentally. Who was he kidding?

"Dad…This is getting ridiculous! No, you know what this is? This is a bunch of bullshit! You have to call Sam and me! We…we found…Ella…You might remember her? YOUR DAUGHTER!" he hissed venomously.

He sorely wished this was the type of phone where you could slam down the receiver and the listener cringed with guilt. But, knowing his dad, Dean decided he probably wouldn't have given a flying rat's ass to hear he had distressed his oldest son. After all, Dean was the oldest and that meant Dean was supposed to be the strong one. Looking at Ella's sleeping figure he wondered suddenly how on earth he was going to prove this to Sam.

But, first Dean really needed to get some proof himself. And there was only one other person on this earth who could possibly give Dean any answers:

Missouri.

Sighing with the frustration of this entire mess. Dean flipped through his cell phone's address book and clicked the green button once he had highlighted Missouri's number. The dial rang once, twice, and after the third Dean was certain she wasn't going to answer when:

"Dean, what on earth is the matter?"

He jumped. Psychics were creepy sometimes.

"Missouri—I need your help," Dean whispered.

Missouri tutted on the other line. "Boy, I don't need to be a psychic to know _that!_ Why else would you be calling me?"

"Missouri—I need you to tell me if my father was ever with a another woman after my mom."

Dean would have paid a lot of money to see the look on the face of a stunned psychic. There was a ringing silence on the other line. Dean was just beginning to wonder if Missouri had fainted when her soft voice filtered through the phone.

"You found Gabriella, didn't you?"

The amount of shockwaves Dean had had sent through his mind tonight was giving him a migraine. Did Missouri know about Ella? Had his dad told her about his daughter? And most importantly: was she confirming what Dean already figured was true? Was Ella really his sister?

"So she is my sister?" Dean asked quietly, his eyes finding the sleeping girl on the bed again.

"Dean, listen to me. I can sense Gabriella's strength from clear across this country," exclaimed Missouri in a take-no-prisoners tone. "She has your strength, she has Sam's compassion, but most importantly she has the ability to be so much more with a little guidance. This child—Dean, she has seen no love in her life since her mother died, and was abandoned before she was old enough to know what abandonment is."

Dean sucked on his breath in a strangled gasp. _His father had abandoned Ella._

"She's in pain, Dean. Don't be fooled by her bright smile," cautioned Missouri. "Look at her the same way you look at Sam. You will see."

"But, what if she's not?" Dean whispered, terrified. "What if she isn't my sister?"

Missouri laughed. "If you don't believe me, you _are_ a fool. But, still, doubt is healthy. As corny as it sounds, Dean—if you don't believe me, look inside your heart."

The line clicked and Missouri was gone. Dean slowly pocketed the phone and stared at Ella for a long time. He believed Missouri. He believed what was right here in front of him.

_Shit. What am I gonna do now?_

He had to tell Sam. He couldn't just keep his baby brother in the dark. Besides he figured he was pretty sure why their dad had called in the first place. John wanted his sons to rescue Ella from the clutches of her twisted, horrendous, and possibly demonic stepfather. That much was obvious.

And how was he supposed to break Ella the news that she now had two older brothers who were going to take care of her and love her like she deserved to be loved? _Hi, Ella. How's it going? By the way, I'm your big brother Dean—and this loser is your brother, Sam—and we're here to take you away from your hell of home. _That would go over well. Not.

"Dean?"

Instinct caused him to whirl around in full hunter mode, but brother instincts told him he needed to relax. Sam stood in the doorway, arms folded, looking at his big brother curiously. But, Dean could see some lines forming between his eyebrows and nose. Sam was a little worried.

"You've been gone forever, man. What've you been doing?" Sam asked slowly.

Dean frowned, his brow furrowed as he tried to think of the best way to tell his brother he was no longer the baby of the Winchester family.

"I talked to the nurse," he started. He followed Sam with his eyes as he walked over to stand next to him.

"Yeah? And is Ella okay?" Sam asked immediately.

Dean nodded. "She's being released tomorrow."

"That's good."

There was a long silence. Dean guessed this was the most comfortable silence the two brothers had been in for a long time. For once they weren't trying to think of ways to tell the other how sorry they were for mistakes they made in the past. For once it was just the older trying to figure out a plan to tell his brother some very odd, and slightly disturbing news.

"You know the nurse told me that Ella and I have the same eyes," Dean blurted.

Sam looked at Dean, slightly surprised at his sudden outburst. Instead of taking the bait like Dean assumed he would, Sam merely shrugged.

"I noticed right before she collapsed. She's got hazel eyes the exact color of yours. It was _creepy_," he teased. Sam grinned softly at Dean. But, when Dean refused to return the smile, he frowned. "What's wrong? Dean?"

"No, man, I mean look at the shape!" Dean gestured frantically toward Ella. "Almond shape like _mine,_" he emphasized, "long eye lashes like _yours_. That truly _is_ creepy." Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Dean cut him off quickly. "Look at her, Sam."

While Sam slowly rotated his head so he was looking at Ella seriously, Dean softly spoke to his little brother.

"Look at her chin…at her nose…at her cheekbones…Sammy—look at the color of her hair! Don't tell me you can't see it!" Dean said, exasperated. Sam needed to understand.

"See _what_, Dean?" To Dean's shock, Sam's voice shook ever so slightly. But, even after four years apart—Dean was still the Sam expert.

"I know you see it," he said softly.

Sam whirled on him; disbelief was shining through his eyes even if resentment was attached to every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

"So what! Are you trying to tell me she looks like you?"

Dean nodded. He tried to smile, but failed miserably. "Sam—that's why Dad wants us here—" Sam shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and amazement—"The nurse told me what it said on her birth records, Sammy. She told me Ella's mother was Elizabeth Anne Rowley, deceased, and her dad is John Samuel Winchester, living."

Sam collapsed on the floor because his knees were too weak to support his body weight. The stunning blow of his brother's words seemed too surreal to be the truth. That was impossible …absurd…beyond any form of supernatural enemy Sam had faced…But, when he thought back to the past few days…Ella's mannerisms were a lot like Dean's. It was the way she rolled her eyes at him. The way her tone had sounded and they way she listened when he talked to her—But, it was simply impossible…

"I need to see her birth certificate, Dean."

**A/N: Now you didn't really think Sam would be as accepting as Dean, did you? Anyway—the more reviews I get, the faster you get chapter seven, titled: What Is and What Should Never Be.**


	7. What Is and What Should Never Be

**A/N: Thanks to Spectral Scribe, brigurl, Nate and Jake, Aira Silver, calcium77, SVOC Luva, teal-lover, Marissa Charming, SupernaturalGurl, bessie1, Ghostwriter, and ChaiGrl for your reviews! You guys are awesome! But SammysAngel is my official hero! This update is for you!**

**Chapter Seven:**

**What Is and What Should Never Be**

"Dean!"

"What?"

"Hurry up!"

Dean rolled his eyes. Picking the lock of the hospital records room was a little too illegal—even for Dean and his fake Homeland Security badges. The paper clip he was using just did not want to cooperate with him, and quite frankly, neither did Sam. The younger Winchester had been shaking so badly about twenty minutes ago Dean had to practically rip the paper clip out of his brother's hands. He was now standing as look out in case someone walked by, but Dean thought they'd be lucky if the security cameras didn't pick them up.

The lock clicked, and Dean yanked the clip out while motioning frantically to his little brother. Sam hurried down the hallway. Dean held the door open while Sam rushed inside the records room.

"Of course it had to be like in the movies," Dean groaned, flicking a flashlight on.

Row upon row of filing cabinets lined the back walls, the sidewalls, and every possible spot in between. Sam frowned; showing the first sign of emotion sense the two brothers had left Ella's room. Dean led the way toward the back of the room, looking for any cabinet labeled "R" for Rowley.

"Dean, here. R-O-W through R-O-Y," said Sam, pointing to a cabinet.

Sam yanked open the drawer and started to rifle through what seemed like hundreds of files. Dean leaned over his little brother shoulders, watching and waiting patiently for him to come across Ella's file. He knew somewhere deep inside Sam had already believed him when he told him about Ella. There was no way he could look at her and say she didn't look like Dean in female form. But, Dean was the impulsive one, and while he knew _he_ didn't need to see a birth certificate to believe what was in his heart—he could understand while Sam wanted to double check.

Dean knew his brother would be scared beyond reason when he finally was forced to accept the truth. Sam had never spoken his fears aloud to Dean, but being the older brother enlightened you to a few things about the younger. Both Mom and Jess were murdered in front of Sam. Sam claimed responsibility to those deaths no matter how often Dean told him it could not have been his fault. If another girl—namely Ella—entered Sam's life, Dean knew he would be terrified that something would happen to her. And Dean knew the more attached Sam grew to his baby sister—the more terrified he would become.

"I found her," whispered Sam.

He pulled out the file marked _Rowley, G.L. _The first paper he pulled out was a copy of her medical records.

"Oh my God, Dean," he said, sounding pained, "listen to this. The first time she was ever in a hospital was age eleven because her mom found out the hard way she was allergic to bee stings. But, look—age twelve she was in a hospital in Santa Rosa for two days because of a severely bruised abdomen and a broken collarbone. Then, age thirteen, third degree burns on lower calf—"

"That must have been from her mom's murder," Dean interjected.

"Age fifteen," Sam continued, "three broken ribs, a broken arm, and intense bruising to the face! And just four months ago she was here for twenty stitches above her right temple."

Sam closed the file and looked up at Dean in horror.

"She's being abused. How the hell could these people not realize something was going on?" he hissed, now caught somewhere between pissed off and concerned.

"I don't know, Sam, but I swear we're going to do something about this. We have to," Dean added. He slowly appraised his little brother. "You're avoiding her birth certificate. I know a copy is in that file."

Sam slowly glanced down at the file like it was something that was going to jump alive and eat his face. Dean knew that look in his brother's brown eyes. Fear. But, not the kind they both encountered on hunting trips, the kind that started in the pit of your stomach and slowly grew until it gripped your chest with icy claws. The kind of fear that stays with you for a very long time, but the kind you keep buried in the deepest, darkest portion of your soul, so you did not have to examine it. Dean had those fears too, but it was Sam's fears that were causing the problem.

"Fine," Dean said. "I'll look."

He snatched the file away from Sam before he could object, a small grin playing on his features. The certificate was right behind Ella's medical records. Dean pulled it slowly out for dramatics sake and read it over with the flashlight.

"Her middle name is Louise," Dean said softly. "That was Dad's mom's name."

"I know that!" Sam snapped.

"Her birthday is October thirty-first, nineteen eighty-nine, and she weighed six pounds—"

"God damn it, Dean! Who the hell is her father?" Sam hissed ferociously.

"John Samuel Winchester."

"Let me see!" Sam snarled.

Dean tried very hard to ignore Sam's biting tone of voice as he ripped the paper out of his hands. This was just Sam trying to come to terms with the whole situation. It didn't take a genius to see the shock written in Sam's eyes. It didn't take an idiot to know how scared Sam was but it also didn't take a moron to understand that Dean was just as scared.

"That's Dad's signature…Oh my God, Dean," Sam hoarse whispered, "that's actually Dad's signature—"

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean quipped. "Did you think I was lying to you?"

"No!" said Sam immediately. "I just—I just hoped—oh shit, what are we supposed to do now? How are we supposed to tell Ella we're her—her—"

"Her brothers?" Dean finished gently.

Sam nodded and then shut his eyes tightly. Dean carefully placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, knowing full well what was going on in Sammy's head. When Sam refused to open his eyes, Dean gave him a tight squeeze, waiting patiently like he did when Sam was a little kid.

"You think way too much, little brother," Dean said, smiling. "We'll figure this out. We always figure it out."

"What if she gets hurt?" Sam asked quickly, his eyes snapping open.

"She won't. We won't let anything hurt her."

Sam nodded again. Then he said, "We should call Dad and tell him we found Ella."

Dean laughed bitterly. "I already did. The bastard wouldn't pick up the damn phone."

"Figures," mumbled Sam. Louder he said, "What are we gonna do about her step-dad?"

"I'm debating between burying him alive, setting him on fire, or death by rats Willard style," Dean snarled.

Sam actually laughed. He shook his head at his brother's rather odd sense of humor.

"Well before I put my vote in for option number three, I think we better make sure Ella is actually being abused by him."

"But, you think it _is_ him, right?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

"Of course, but when I pitch in to buy the rats, I'd like to know he's guilty _first_," said Sam.

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"You guys really didn't need to bring me breakfast," said a smiling Ella the next morning.

Bruger's Bagels bags were spread across the sixteen-year-old's hospital bed. Except for a small concussion and six slashes across Ella's back, she was relatively unharmed. Sam felt like he didn't want to know what went on in Ella's house the night before. But, he could still remember the fresh feeling of worry when he brought her to the hospital. And the feeling wasn't leaving him alone.

It was strange to look at her now. Sam felt like he was a teenager again and he was talking to someone that he knew a big, nasty bit of gossip about, but the other didn't know he knew. Sam had to keep clearing his head and remembering Ella was his sister. His _sister_. His _baby sister_.

Several different thoughts seemed to be running through his mind at once. One was saying how much he wanted to kill whoever hurt her. Another part of him was screaming for him to wrap his arms around her and never, ever let her go. And the final part was struggling to come to terms that Sam was no longer the baby of the Winchester family. He had a responsibility to Ella now.

Sam found himself extremely quiet as he watched Dean joke around and make Ella laugh. He was the big brother of the family and nothing could ever change that. Sam knew how to make Dean smile. Sam knew how to watch his brother's back. Sam knew his brother would do anything for him (including die) and Sam also knew he would die for his own brother.

But, now he was a big brother. Could Sam be the way to Ella Dean was to him? Will he pick her when she's feeling down? Will he make the nightmares leave her alone? Can he soothe her worries and fears with just a simple cocky grin and a "chill out, sis"? Would he be her hero? Would Ella look up to him the way Sam looked up to Dean since he could remember?

"If you insist on taking me home, I'm going to take a shower first," Ella announced.

She pushed her sheets off and snatched a pile of freshly laundered clothes. Grinning at both brothers, she jumped off the bed and attempted to walk inconspicuously backwards to avoid showing off her backless hospital gown. Dean snickered at her. Ella mock glared and closed her bathroom down with a slight snap.

Three seconds later Dean collapsed backwards with a thump and a crackle of bagels.

"Dude, this is crazy," he said softly.

Sam nodded. "It's like we've known her forever." He paused. "She's exactly like you."

Dean opened one eye and stared at Sam slowly. He shut it quickly, but after a moment he said, "Missouri told me she has your compassion. My strength, but your compassion."

Sam laughed. "So if we train her as a hunter, she'd be a cross between both of us." Sarcastically he added, "Dad's gonna love her."

Dean rolled over and sat up, looking at Sam with his darkened hazel eyes. The same eyes Ella had.

"I'm pissed too, Sam, but we have to take this slow. Ella has no idea as far as we know that we're her brothers. First things first: get her to tell us who hurt her, break the news to her carefully, and then we figure out what to do about her step-dad and Dad."

Sam briefly wondered if he would ever be able to sound so sure of himself in front of his baby sibling like Dean did with him on an everyday basis.

"Look at this," Dean said quietly.

He passed Sam a very old paper he dug out of his pocket. Sam took it carefully and he saw there were words etched on the back in fading blue pen. _Baby Ella and me, November 4th, 1989. _Sam wrinkled his nose, trying to think where he could remember seeing such spidery handwriting before. He flipped the paper over and his breath caught a little in his throat.

It was a photograph of a younger version of his father. Against his chest was a tiny baby, and Sam recognized the tuff of dark gold hair immediately. This was no ordinary picture. This was a picture of John Winchester holding his infant daughter mere four days after her birth.

"Dean," Sam gasped, "where did you find this?"

"The nurse released to me Ella's personal items. Her wallet was in the back pocket of her jeans, I guess. I saw her photos sticking out and I—well—I wondered if maybe she had a picture of her step-dad in there," said Dean.

Still staring at the photo, Sam said, "You just wanted to see if your janitor buddy is Ella's step-dad."

"I think he is, Sam," argued Dean at once. "He was at her house when we took Ella to the hospital and Ella lives with just her step-dad. Logically, we can figure they are one in the same."

Sam handed Dean the picture back. "You should put that back, man."

But, Dean pocketed it just as Ella came bouncing out of the bathroom, shaking back her mane of dripping hair. Sam found it amusing how something so horrible could happen to this young girl—his sister—and she could still smile.

A smile that didn't reach a pair of haunted, hazel eyes.

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The ride back to Ella's house was quiet. Yes, Led Zeppelin was blasting in the background as usual, but it didn't take a genius to understand why Ella was being very quiet and subdued.

Dean knew she was scared. How could she not be? The night before she had been abused and now she was heading back to the same place where the memories were. And now she was going back to the same place where the man who hurt her was. Dean was feeling uncharacteristically depressed. He did not want to send his baby sister back to this man. He wanted to take her as far away as he could from him, from that house, and from San Diego, California. But, Sam and him hadn't figured out a way to tell Ella about her family. Not only was the whole 'I'm your big brother' thing going to be a problem, but the 'the truth is out there' speech was going to be a _huge_ problem.

Most people Sam and Dean saved were easily swayed to the truth of supernatural beings. But, this was due to the fact that the savvies often came face-to-face with the supernatural entity. Charlie saw Bloody Mary in the mirror…the little girl living in their old house saw the spirit of their mom…Haley saw the Wendigo…Amanda Walker saw the exorcism of the co-pilot…and Gavin and Kat came too close to the asylum spirits…

So how can you explain to someone who has never seen something paranormal that the truth lies buried too close to the surface in your own family? All Dean and Sam had to go on was there was a slim chance Ella saw something the day her mom was murdered. But, depending on what she saw was the only proof they would have that Elizabeth Rowley died on her ceiling by the same thing that took their mom and Jess. In the case of Elizabeth, she actually could have died in an electrical fire.

Or then again, she probably didn't, considering the past history with that _thing_ and the Winchester family.

"Here we are," said Sam from the backseat.

Dean parked the car in the driveway and gunned down the engine of his baby. A pair of hazel and a pair of dark brown eyes rested on Ella as they watched to see her next move. Dean was sitting next to her, so only he noticed how pale Ella was. Sam was leaning far enough forward in the seat to see how tense she had gotten. Her knuckles had turned white again from gripping her knees. Just as they had that day in the little café.

"A-actually, do you think you c-could drop me at my friend's house?" Ella's voice shook. "I can give you directions."

Dean and Sam met eyes briefly before Dean turned to his little sister.

"Why don't you want to go home?" he asked carefully.

Ella's matching hazel eyes appraised him slowly. It was Dean's calculating look being used against him. Sam would have laughed at the irony, but he didn't think now was the best time.

"Tom—my step-dad—he's not home, see?" she said. She pointed to her step-dad's parking space on the street, but there was no car there. "I didn't think of bringing my keys after—after—after last night."

Sam heard her hesitance, but it was when he recognized fear that it took everything in his power to not blurt out the truth, hug Ella fiercely, and insist she would never have to see that man again. There was no doubt in Sam's mind who was hurting her. It was her step-dad—and damn was Sam going to make him pay.

"Ella," said Dean. "I need to ask you something. And it's very, very important you're honest with me." The oldest of the three Winchesters took a deep breath. It was now, or never. "Is your step-dad—does he—sweetheart, does he hurt you?"

The moment the words tumbled not-so-gracefully from his mouth, Dean looked like he regretted it. His face drained of color, though it still was not as pale as Ella's. His eyes betrayed a wild fear that Sam had only seen two other times in his life with his brother. But, Sam was quick to understand Dean, as usual. Dean was afraid to hear the answer. Both brothers knew the answer already, but it seemed that hearing Ella confirm what they already knew would make it more real.

Her mouth was slightly open. Her wide, hazel eyes were blinking furiously. Yet the fear had not left her persona, nor had the tense body posture. Sam knew she was trapped, but that did not stop Ella from being caught off guard.

"I—what? —How could you assume—these injuries were just an acci—no. No, he does not hurt me, now can you please take me to my friend's house, or am I gonna have to walk?" Ella stated coolly.

_So she isn't afraid. She's terrified, _thought Dean. _Terrific._

Dean rotated his head so his own eyes could plead into Sammy's. Sam was the compassionate one. Sam was the one who could make any victim do anything. This was why Sam and Dean were two halves of a whole. Sam was the thinker; Dean was the protector. Together they made one perfect hunting team. And together, Dean was pretty damn sure they could make one hell of a big brother for their little sister. If they could get far enough along to tell Ella who they really were.

Sam placed his hand on top of Ella's shoulder, gently pressing down like he used to do for Jess when she was scared, or stressed. He felt Ella subconsciously begin to relax, though her fingernails were now digging little holes into the palms of her hands.

"Ella, we _know_," he said softly, gently. "We saw him last night when you came out of your house. Who else could've possibly done this to you?"

Dean was expecting sobbing. Sam was expecting Ella to burst into loud exclamations of denial. So, when mere silent tears poured down her face and she made not one single noise, both boys had no clue what to do. Dean could handle the sobbing—years of experience with Sam taught him. Sam could handle denial—Dean was full of it. But, neither could handle the silence. There was a very distinct difference with silence of not speaking and silent emotion—something Dean and Sam did not understand.

But, as always, older brother instincts kicked in first.

"Ella?" Dean said gently. "Talk to us."

The sixteen-year-old took a deep breath, but her voice was thick with forced down sobs.

"It—it s-started after—after my m-mom d-died," she cried. "He—he just gets s-s-so angry—and—and his eyes go—f-funny—and—and I didn't know how to make him s-stop," Ella hoarse-whispered.

Sam carefully put his arms around her chest. She leaned backwards into his elbow, and Dean remembered Missouri telling him how Ella had not received love since her mom died. Cautiously, Dean took both of Ella's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. The girl must have been terrified. She's being abused and she's sitting in a car with two strangers, pouring out her deepest, darkest secret.

"Look at me, Ella," Dean said firmly.

Hazel eyes met.

"Do you trust me?" Dean whispered, his voice unnaturally thick, like he was speaking over a lump in his throat.

"Yes," she whispered without a trace of hesitation.

Dean gave her a shaky smile. "Then you need to do exactly as I tell you."

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True to her word, the house was empty. Ella led Sam and Dean into the interior hallway of her little beach mansion while Sam did his best to hide the shotgun in his jacket. Dean had a knife with him, but both brothers silently agreed to only use them if Ella, or one of them was in immediate danger.

"Okay, go Ella, now," Dean said.

He watched her warily as she sprinted up the stairs and turned right on the landing above them.

Sam turned to Dean. "If we're caught with her—we're in a lot of shit, you know that, right? We don't have custody of her. This is illegal."

"You want to know what else is illegal, Sammy?" Dean hissed ferociously. "Child abuse. Child abuse is illegal. In fact, not only is it illegal, but it's inhumane. It's what should never be a part of any child's life, and not only is it a part of this girl's life…it's a part of our sister's life. And I swear on Mom's grave that I am not going to stand by and watch it happen again!"

Sam sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with the king of stubbornness. When Dean got something in his head, he never let it go. He checked his watch.

"How long did you give her to grab her stuff?" he asked.

"Ten minutes."

"SAM! DEAN! HELP!" Ella screamed.

Petrified, the brothers took off up the stairs before they even realized one was next to the other. Both were running harder than they ever had in their life—both terrified something horrible was happening upstairs to the sister they just met.

The door on the far right hand side was slightly ajar. Dean kicked it open with his boot while he yanked out his knife, getting ready to attack anyone who messed with his younger siblings. Sam cocked his shotgun, preparing.

Upon entering they barely had time to see Ella scissor kick a man to the floor before she yelped and jumped backwards. The man was up like nothing had happened and when Dean saw his face; he didn't wonder why Ella had screamed.

The face wasn't human.

Covered with livid yellow spikes with bloodshot red pupils, the demon slowly advancing on the smallest Winchester had two eyeteeth like vampires and long claws like a black dog. It was bald but for the razor sharp spikes growing from it's head. It was at least eight feet tall.

Ella screamed, "HELP ME!"

She charged the demon, wrapped her leg around it's calf and flipped it to the ground with an earthquake worthy shake.

Sam came to senses first. Though apparent Ella had some skills in kickboxing it was not enough to fight off the demon. Raising his shotgun, he yelled, "Ella, drop!"

A moment later she was on the floor and a ringing shot fired through the air. The six bullets barreled through the chest of the demon. It roared angrily and started toward Sam, but Dean jumped in front of his little brother, shielding him protectively. Dean threw the knife at the demon and watched with a smirk as it imbedded the monster's heart.

But, instead of killing it as Dean and Sam expected it to, the beast merely dropped to all fours. It roared again, sending shivers up Sam's spine, and it's legs started shrinking. Almost mesmerized, Dean watched, as the demon seemed to shrink. Dark human hair was replacing the spikes. The fingernails disappeared. The teeth changed to a ferocious overbite. It turned into the body of a human man.

It turned into the body of Dean's disappearing janitor.

For a split second the two brothers and the demon seemed to stare at one another. The janitor's eyes were livid, but it was nothing compared to how Dean felt at that moment. Ella's step-dad was a demon. Ella's _step-dad_ was a _demon_.

"STUPID HUMANS!" screamed the demon.

He started to scramble to his feet, but Sam was just as surprised as Dean when Ella came up from behind and swung her fist into her step-dad's head. He was knocked out immediately. There was a wild look in Ella's overly bright eyes. Her face was a mixture of shock and adrenaline. Dean could find no words to say. Sam's mind was reeling. If Ella could take on an eight-foot tall demon version of her step-dad, why was she being abused?

Breathing hard through her nostrils, Ella managed to pant out, "Who the fuck is _he_?"

**A/N: REVIEW! You know you want to! The more reviews I get, the faster I manage to type out Chapter Eight titled: Truth Doesn't Make a Noise.**


	8. Truth Doesn't Make a Noise

**Chapter Eight:**

**Truth Doesn't Make a Noise**

Sam and Dean stared at Ella. She looked absolutely terrified as she backed a step away from the unconscious demon-man to be closer to the two brothers. She massaged her hand, which Dean noticed was starting to swell around the knuckles.

"Well?" she shrieked, starting to sound hysterical. "Answer my damn question! _Who the fuck is he_?" She pointed wildly to the janitor. "Or better yet—_what the fuck is he_?"

"Wait," said Dean, "wait a second! You mean—he—" He gestured to the man "—isn't your step-dad?"

"No!" cried Ella, starting to sound close to tears. "And he—it—he—that wasn't even—h-human!"

The reality of everything happening to her seemed to suddenly crash down upon the young girl. Ella collapsed into a shaking pile on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her face was completely hidden from Sam and Dean, who in turn had no idea how to handle this. The situation had taken a drastic turn that Dean was not prepared for.

Ella lifted her head to stare directly at Sam. In a dead, hollow voice, she asked, "I'm crazy, aren't I?"

Sam nearly laughed with relief. He crouched down next to his little sister and put a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.

"No, Ella, you are not crazy. You get me? You are _not_ crazy."

"So—so you can see—_that_—too?" she whispered, stunned. Her hand shook as she pointed to the unconscious janitor on her bedroom floor.

Dean knelt down in front of Ella and Sam, his face a perfect mask of stone and devoid of any emotion. He was in full protector mode now. And Sam was overcome with the sensation of being on the outside looking in. Normally Dean's look was directed at him. It was odd to see it directed in a different direction.

"Ella," Dean said gently, but in a tone that commanded her attention. Their hazel eyes met. "Have you ever seen this man before?"

She took a shaky breath. A lock of flaxen hair tumbled over her cheekbone. She brushed it anxiously away, her amazing eyes still shocked and terrified.

"Yeah. He's—I don't know. I-I've seen him at my s-school. That day we met, he grabbed me, and I—I got s-scared. And he is-isn't even—what is he?" Ella added in a horrified whisper.

Sam was surprised when Dean took Ella's hand gently within his own and squeezed it. The big brother inside Dean was screaming for release. The urge to guide, to protect, to love was overwhelming for the oldest Winchester.

"He isn't human, Ella," Dean explained. "He's something else. He's something evil."

Sam was even more surprised when the sixteen-year-old immediately looked at him with a shocked expression of begging for clarification. Sam attempted a small smile to the young woman, while trying to find a way to explain something that was practically unexplainable to everyone in the world. How can one explain something that hardly anyone in the world believes exists?

"So—so—wait. Are you s-saying that this thing's a—a demon?" asked Ella incredulously.

The two brothers locked eyes for a brief moment and did the whole silent communication thing only close siblings could do. Sam nodded his head shortly, silently letting Dean take control of this situation.

"Yes. That's exactly what we're trying to say," Dean said firmly.

Ella's jaw dropped open. For a brief moment Sam wondered if she was about to faint, but her eyes just continued to be a cross between shock and terror. This often happened when outsiders were allowed inside a hunt with the Winchesters. The shock of what they saw would nearly keel them over, but the truth would sink in. After all, how can you deny what you can see in front of you?

"You're bullshitting me," announced Ella a good two minutes later.

_Oh thank God, denial. I can handle this one._

Sam smiled encouragingly at the teen. "Ella—how can we possibly be bullshitting you? You saw the thing with your own two eyes. You saw the thing morph back into human form. How can you possibly think we're lying?"

"What is it then?" she asked.

Sam was relieved to hear her voice was back to its normal strong tone. Shock was already wearing off. Acceptance was slowly creeping in, and Sam was grateful for that. He was also extremely grateful when Dean jumped back into the conversation.

"We don't know. Why don't we tie him up and find out for ourselves?" he asked pleasantly.

Sam rolled his eyes while Ella just stared at him like she had never seen anything quite like him. She stuck close to Sam's side as the oldest Winchester went to the Impala for some duck tape, returned, and then proceeded to tape the demon-man to a chair he grabbed from the dining room downstairs. Dean glanced back at his younger siblings.

"Stay back there until I say," he ordered. Sam was immediately reminded of John Winchester when he tried to protect his two sons. The feeling that followed after this thought was one of sickening realization. John Winchester had no idea that his daughter was being abused. John Winchester never cared about his daughter. If he had, the man would have been six feet under already, and Sam would have had his little sister.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," trilled Dean, smacking the tied man with the palm of his hand, "nap time's over."

The man's eyes immediately shot open. He took one look at the position he was in, the amused expression on Dean's face, and how Sam had a protective arm around Ella, and then got sincerely pissed off.

"STUPID HUMANS!" he screeched.

Ella flinched slightly, but Dean merely rolled his eyes.

"All right already, dude, I think we've got that part covered. Now, would you mind telling us who—or what—the fuck you are, and why the fuck were you attacking my—friend here?" Dean nearly said 'my sister' but he caught himself just in time.

The man looked furious. "John Winchester really did raise a couple of morons."

"Winchester?" whispered Ella softly.

Bells, sirens, alarms, whistles, and flashing neon signs blinking WARNING went off in Sam's head. However, being the dense older brother he was, Dean didn't hear Ella and kept up his interrogation.

"Who are you?" Dean asked deadly low.

The man merely raised his eyebrows. "What's in it for me?"

"I let you live for the time being."

"Easy for you to say," he snarled. "My name is Thortan Wells to the human race. To everyone else I am known as Thor."

"Who's everyone else?" demanded Ella suddenly from Sam's side.

Sam was surprised, but Dean merely glanced his sister's way, pride shining through his matching eyes. Ella showed no fear; her face was a mask of stone. The same mask the three Winchester men developed overt time. Hide your emotions from evil. Show no weakness to evil. Show no mercy to evil. Show nothing to evil. Four rules that ruled the hunter's guidebooks. Four rules that Ella had a grasp on, and she didn't even know she was a Winchester.

Thor smirked. "It's worth more than my life to tell you, girl," he spat the word out like Ella was a piece of meat. "I don't like the idea of my entire clan being wiped out by your buds here." He nodded moodily to Dean and Sam.

Dean rolled his eyes and punched Thor hard in the jaw.

"Dean!" Ella started to protest.

"You little piece of shit!" Thor roared, his eyes flaming red like they were before.

"Talk, I don't punch. Don't talk, and I get out the tazer guns," Dean hissed, motioning for Sam and Ella to come closer. "Your choice."

Thor glared at the three. "I'm part of the _Contraho_, perhaps you've heard of us, Winchesters?"

Sam ignored the wince on Ella's face. His last name certainly met something to her, but he wasn't quite ready to bring that up with her in front of a demon. And a very dangerous demon at that.

"_Contraho_?" he said. "You're a collector?"

Thor struggled against his bonds as if he expected them to burst into flames at any second.

"What are you collecting?" Ella asked icily.

The demon ignored her and continued to fight with no avail against the tape binding him to the chair. Sam watched with a certain amount of satisfaction that Ella took another step closer to Thor with absolutely no fear upon her young face.

"Answer me, or Dean gets the tazer gun," she snapped.

"Your step-father's soul," the demon hissed.

Ella reeled backwards a step so she knocked hard into Dean's protective arms. He placed his hands on her slim shoulders to hold her steady on her failing knees.

Dean had heard of the _Contraho_ from his dad a few years back. They were a clan you didn't really want to get involved with. They took their orders from an unknown source, and they existed only to please the _Contrahus_, their leader. But, whom their leader answered to…no one knew. Not even the clan members themselves knew. The _Contraho_ was expendable. They did jobs for whoever would pay them. What made them so dangerous was that a select few of them had human forms. The problem with the _Contraho_, however, was that when they were collecting a soul, you couldn't mess with them. One cannot simply walk into Hell and ask for someone's soul back.

"Tell us about your contract," ordered Sam in a tone that booked no arguments.

Thor made a dramatic sigh. "It was twenty years ago. Tom Jensen came to me saying he would sell his soul to Lucifer to have success. To have a better life."

"Lucifer?" Ella whispered. "My step-dad made a deal with the devil?"

Thor ignored her again. "Lucifer gave him success. He got a high paying job, a nice car to play with, and the money he needed to impress the ladies. But, the more successful he became, the more powerful he became. And power corrupts even the best of people. Tom Jensen slowly became angry, bitter, and power craving." Thor looked at Ella, an evil gleam in his eyes. "His contract has expired. His soul is due to Lucifer at midnight tomorrow."

"Why are you early to collect it?" Dean asked.

"Exactly, you idiots!" yelled Thor angrily. "He's fighting back. He doesn't want his soul to be released. He's trying to find a spell to stop the transaction! I'm here to keep an eye on him and I cannot do that unless YOU LET ME GO!" he suddenly exploded.

"If we let you go you'll collect Tom Jensen's soul, not to mention how many others you will trick into giving up their own afterwards," said Sam evenly.

Thor glanced up at him, but Sam stared steely back. "I know about the _Contraho_," he said. "I know they manipulate weak people into giving them souls. Don't even bother trying to lie to me."

"How'd you know that?" Dean asked him, curious.

Sam hesitated. "Because I met one once when I was seventeen."

Dean smacked his little brother around the head. Sam cringed. He figured Dean wouldn't be too happy to learn that five and half years later.

"What will happen if my step-dad doesn't give you his soul by midnight tomorrow?" Ella asked.

Thor regarded her.

"He'll be killed. But, the point is that I'll be killed, and I don't want to be killed!"

Dean smirked at Sam. "I'm not seeing any downsides to that whole thing."

"Oh, but you should if your daddy taught you anything," laughed Thor.

Dean suddenly thought it very odd that this demon man knew a lot about his family, a fact that alarmed him very greatly.

"The only way to stop a _Contraho_ from collecting your soul is to offer them a different soul. And a soul that we believe to be—how should I put this?—of more value to us," Thor said.

"Is that the spell he's looking for?" growled Dean, not liking where Thor was going with this at all.

"And who do you think he's going to offer in his place?" said Thor, staring pointedly at Ella.

Dean's vision burned red. He grabbed Ella securely around the waist and pulled her close to him. She pressed automatically deeper into his side, and Dean was at least happy to see how deeply she trusted him already.

Sam's voice was layered with anger. "And is she of more value to you?"

"I believe we would be interested in her soul. Plus the amount of money Tom would pay us to change the contract." Thor smirked. "The spell requires the replacement to be freshly dead." Ella squeaked softly, and Dean gripped her tighter. "She is a Winchester, so I suspect the _Contrahus_ would be very pleased to eliminate one of you."

Ella ripped herself out of Dean's grasp. Her expressive eyes were a terrible expression of anger and resentment. It pained Dean to see her look so hurt. In his heart Dean understood. Ella knew her father's name. Ella knew her father was John Winchester, and now she knew Sam and Dean's last name. Putting two-and-two together was not difficult in the Winchester family.

"Ella—" Sam said quickly, trying to save what little they had with their newfound sister.

"Is he lying?" Ella asked shrilly. "Is John Winchester your father?"

Sam glanced immediately at Dean for direction, for help, for something to get them out of this. For anything that would allow the two brothers a way to tell Ella the truth about her family in a quieter, more relaxed way. But, all Sam saw on Dean's face was a type of hopelessness he had never seen. And seeing Dean look hopeless was like seeing a death in the family.

"Yes," Dean said softly, still miraculously able to look his half-sister in the eye. "John Samuel Winchester is our father."

Ella backed away a few steps. She shook her head wordlessly, but her eyes still refused to leave Dean's face. They flickered over to Sam, who could only offer her a look of miserable confirmation.

Her voice sounding horribly close like she was about to cry, Ella whispered, "Do I look like him?"

Sam realized she was asking about Dean. He looked at his older brother's almond shaped, dark hazel eyes. He looked at his cheekbones and little dimple on his chin. There was no mistaking their resemblance. But, it was the eyes that got Sam the most. The eyes were absolutely identical.

"Your eyes," Sam said simply.

Ella laughed softly, a sound nearly choked by a small sob. "I thought I imagined it."

Slowly, she turned around and walked out of the room. Straining his ears, Sam heard a door down the hall open and gently click shut.

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Two hours had passed since Ella's disappearance into her bedroom. Dean had proceeded with great pleasure in knocking Thor out again. The boys had no idea what else to do with him. If they let him go, he would stop Tom Jensen from trying to offer Ella's soul in place of his. Yet letting him go might suffice a problem with their sister. The brothers were not about to let Thor go if Ella was going to have a significant issue with her step-dad losing his soul.

Though in both brothers' opinions, the man who could hit his stepdaughter already didn't have a soul.

"Are we ever going to talk to her, or are we planning on standing outside her door for the next two hours?" asked Sam.

Dean resisted the urge to smack Sam upside the head again.

"Do you think we should go in?"

"Yeah," said Sam at once. "We need to talk to her. She knows, Dean. It's not like she's going to forget anytime soon."

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his cropped hair. He gave two short nods. Sam inwardly grit his teeth and knocked softly on the door in front of the two brothers.

There was no response, and Sam honestly did not expect one to come. He carefully turned the doorknob and pushed the door open with the toe of his boot.

"Ella?" Dean whispered.

Her room was dark, but Sam could still make out the tense shape of his baby sister curled under her sheets. To help her out a little, Sam decided to leave the room as dark as she wanted it to be.

"Ella, can we talk to you, please?" Dean asked.

"Since you're my brothers, I guess I really can't stop you, now can I?" whispered Ella, facing them with sudden agitation.

Dean and Sam sat on the edge of her bed. Ella was still facing them both, looking for the first time like a little girl frightened of the first day of school. Dean knew she had no idea what to say, or what to even think anymore. Her whole world had suddenly taken a drastic turn.

The three could find nothing to say to each other. The truth was out in the open, but Dean had never foreshadowed what would happen afterwards. Sam hadn't even imagined telling her, though Ella had to become a part of his life.

"How long have you known?" Ella asked in a ghost of a whisper.

Dean sighed. "A nurse at the hospital told me your parents names. Sam and I found a copy of your birth certificate with our dad's—your dad's—signature on it." Sam watched Ella stare at them with a ray of something like hope shining through her hazel orbs.

Dean must have misinterpreted the look on his little sister's face, for he said hastily, "I can show you the certificate if you want—"

Ella launching herself into his lap cut him off abruptly. She threw an arm around each of the Winchester men as tears streamed down her lovely pale cheeks. Sam could smell coconut shampoo on her golden tresses, and Dean pressed his face into her soft curls, reveling that Ella was finally with him.

"Please, don't leave me!" she cried softly in a voice that shattered Dean and Sam's hearts. "Please…please…please…I'm s-sorry…I d-didn't mean t-to get s-so mad—I want to have b-brothers…Please…"

Dean held onto Ella with all the strength he had that wouldn't crush the young girl. Somehow his right hand managed to grasp Sam's arm in a tight grip. He had two people to protect now. Two people he would easily give his life to. Two people whom he needed to have with him to make all _this_ worth it.

Two people Dean needed to make his life worth living.

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Sam didn't remember falling asleep. Groaning softly, he tried to roll over only to realize a warm body was resting against his shoulder and chest. Looking down and squinting through the dark, Sam saw it was Ella snuggled between the two brothers with her glorious head of curls resting on Sam gently.

Sam couldn't help but smile. This sixteen-year-old girl was already weaseling into his carefully guarded heart. Loving her was not going to be a problem. It was protecting her and guiding her and teaching her that was going to be a problem for Sam. Dean was the one who protected, guided, and taught him. Dean was the model example of a big brother. Sam was used to being the baby in the family.

And now Ella was the youngest Winchester.

"Sam?" hissed Dean through the surrounding dark.

It was the immediate urgency inflicting his brother's voice that alarmed Sam. Something was wrong.

"Sam, did you hear that?" Dean hissed again.

Sam strained his ears, marveling at Dean's keen sense of hearing. After a minute or so, Sam heard what Dean was talking about.

Footsteps coming slowly up the stairs.

Dean was already rolling off the bed. Ella's eyes snapped open at the sudden movement. She shot up and cocked her head gently to the side. The footsteps reached her ears and even in the dark, Sam could see her pale considerably. She reached out and clutched Sam's hand under her sheets.

"Does your door lock?" Dean asked Ella. At her scared nod, Dean briskly walked to the teenager's door and flipped the lock. Maybe eight seconds went by before the doorknob rattled.

**_BANG, BANG, BANG!_**

****"GABRIELLA LOUISE ROWLEY! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR NOW, OR SO HELP ME GOD, GIRL, YOU WILL LIVE TO REGRET IT!"

Ella yelped and scrambled off the bed to rush toward Dean. Sam jumped up and joined his brother. Both were mentally cursing themselves for leaving their weapons in the room housing Thor. Their sister's life was in danger and they had no way of protecting her, or each other.

"He has a key," whispered Ella, sounding terrified.

Sam could see the wheels turning in Dean's mind. His older brother's eyes darted to the window beside Ella's door.

"Out the window, now, hurry!" he ordered.

Sam sprinted to the window and threw back the curtains. Ella paused long enough to yank on a pair of slip-on Vans and grab a sweatshirt. Sam helped her threw the window and onto the roof. But, when his own feet made contact with the wooden tiles he realized they were slippery.

"Shit!" Sam hollered, grabbing Ella's arm. "Shit! Dean! It's raining!" he added as fat droplets of water collided on his face.

"Get to the Impala! I'll hold him off!" Dean yelled from inside.

"GABRIELLA, WHO'S IN THERE?" roared Tom Jensen.

Wasting no more time, Sam gripped Ella's arm and they slid their way to the edge of the roof. Sam shimmied up to one of the wooden beams attached to the porch and roof. His head snapped up at the sounds of running, swearing, and punches being thrown. He recognized Dean's colorful vocabulary easily.

"Ella, hurry!" Sam motioned to the pillar a foot beneath him.

Luckily, Ella seemed to have climbed down the pillar hundreds of time in her life. Four feet from the ground, she jumped and landed with catlike grace, waiting anxiously as Sam jumped onto the porch. Sam glanced up at the roof, but Dean did not appear through the haze of rain and mist.

Seizing his sister's hand, they sprinted to the edge of the street where the Impala was still parked. Sam didn't have the keys, so he forced her to kneel out of sight while he waited for Dean to get his ass out of that house.

"Sam!" Ella cried. "He slashed your tires!"

Now completely panicked, Sam whirled around to see four flat tires gracing Dean's beloved Chevy Impala.

_Dean is going to be majorly pissed off, now._

"SAM! GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR!"

A dark shadow was running toward the Impala, and Sam thanked any God out there that his brother was coming safely back. But, he also mentally cursed said God for allowing Tom Jensen to slash their car's tires.

"He slashed the tires, Dean," explained Sam as Dean skidded to halt beside the driver's door.

A flash of rage passed over Dean's face.

"Okay, _now _it's personal!" he growled.

Dean ran around to the trunk and popped it. He painstakingly ignored Ella's suppressed gasp when she took a glance at the full arsenal inside the trunk. Dean rooted through the guns and weapons until he found a shotgun loaded with rock salt and a small handgun. He threw the shotgun to Sam.

"I know you don't know how to use this," Dean said softly, but urgently to his sister. He pressed the tiny gun into her small hands. "The safety's on. You turn it off like this." He showed her quickly. "Sam can help you. Use this if someone attacks you."

Ella stared at him. "Who are you guys?"

"I promise I will explain everything once your safe," swore Dean. "Your step-dad found the spell."

Turning to Sam, he said, "Tom was untying Thor when I left. Which means in about ten seconds they're both gonna be out here."

Right on cue, a crash sounded from inside the house. All three Winchesters looked, panicking, over their shoulders.

"Run! Take her anywhere, Sam! Run! Run!" yelled Dean. He cocked a gun and sprinted forward to meet the demon and Tom head on.

**A/N: To my beloved fans: I'm so sorry for the long break! Writer's block sucks! Once my finals are over in two weeks, I'll be updating regularly! But, I'll try to get chapter nine up as soon as I can! Love you all so much and please review!**


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